


Doomed Gaps

by Saesama



Series: 28xFirst Kiss Combo [8]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dersecest - Freeform, Doomed Timelines, F/M, First Kiss, Sadstuck, this is Davesprite's timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2013-09-25
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saesama/pseuds/Saesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He sits at the edge of her window, his foot dangling over the drop to the surface of the moon. She's quiet. He's quiet. He has all of the time in the world. She has none left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doomed Gaps

He sits at the edge of her window, his foot dangling over the drop to the surface of the moon. She's quiet. He's quiet. He has all of the time in the world. She has none left.

"Do you think," she asks finally. "That I will cease to exist?"

He grunts and thinks over the question. Doomed timelines aren't really his thing, even though he's made more than his fair share of them. "Maybe," he says. "Maybe you'll fade and become part of the main timeline's memory."

She's quiet again, sitting at her computer. "That would be the best case scenario, I think," she says softly. "Maybe the main timeline Rose will remember what you mean to me."

He sighs through his nose and drops his head, because it hurts when she's being coy and subtle, but it hurts more when she's being direct. "She has her own Dave to worry about," he says. "I'll just be a curiosity, maybe a thing in a jar or a zoo or some of Harley's weird fucking taxidermy."

Her head inclines a fraction of an inch. He suspects she's just moving her mouse in circles so that she can pretend to look at the screen instead of him. "Perhaps," she whispers, barely audible. "After you can no longer access this timeline, you'll forget about me."

" _No._ " He spins around to face her, his knuckles white on the window sill. "No, I'm not forgetting you," he hisses. "I fucking refuse. I'd rather rip out my own throat."

She still won't look at him and he sees the beginnings of tears on her lashes. "Maybe it would be for the best," she says. "It would cause you less pain."

He crosses the room in a flash, his shades on top of his head as he spins her chair around so that she's forced to look at him. "I'd rather rip out my _throat_ ," he repeats, leaning on the arms of the chair.

He's too close, too _there,_ and she closes most of the gap. They've hovered around this for months, wanting and not daring, and now that there's no time left, neither of them want the regret.

It can't really be called a kiss. It's more a clumsy mash of lips, both sets of eyes too wide and both bodies too tense. He pulls back just a little, enough to look at her without going cross-eyed. "Don't care about the pain," he rasps out. "You're worth it."

She nods a little, acceptance rather than agreement, then she wraps her arms around his neck and _this_ is a kiss, the clumsy-sweet press of the young and inexperienced. His breath is shaky even through his nose, and regret slips in anyway, that they'll never get the chance to get better at this. It doesn't last long before she pulls back to lean her forehead against his. "Tell them I said 'hi'," she says, a jagged laugh trapped in her throat.

He can't say anything without cracking, so he just nods and turns, slides his fingers across his records and steps across the gaps between Time without looking back.


End file.
